Haunted by the Wanted
by SaffeeBear
Summary: England is being haunted in his dreams of his past with a colonized America, and how their relationship lead to independence. England is now determined to do drastic actions to make America realize how much he had suffered for a century because of what happened.
1. Chapter 1

_I can't feel anything…_ England murmured to himself. His arm covered his eyes, preventing light to creep into his emerald green orbs; blinding him to death. He felt fatigue shoot right through his skull the moment he was half way through his paper works. And now, he was resting for half an hour and still, his body won't respond. He felt helpless at the moment. He wanted to take a bite of his scones laid out next to him, but his arm won't move away from him.

Shutting his eyes, he decided to sleep the fatigue off, and just let his sleepiness take over him.

* * *

_England!_

Wha…?

_England!_

Who was that?

_England wake up!_

America?

"England! Hey! It's late!"

"Wha-?!"

England shot right up from where he was lying, but quickly fell down back on the couch, seeing his dizziness took over his head as fast as he fell asleep yesterday. Opening up one eye to see his intruder, his eyes saw bright colored robes, right around the torso, composed of blue and red which made him want to punch the owner's stomach, once realizing it was the French bastard.

The Brit sat up slowly this time, and scowled at the Frenchman. This behavior however didn't affect the other at all. He would only clutch his chest and fall playfully, whilst saying, "You hurt me so, England…"

England ignored his dramatic show and just stood up to fix his messed up papers on top of his work desk, and compiled them in his folder; for the world meeting of course. Turning to his, so-called ally, he asked, growling, "What are you doing here, Frog?" France could only shrug, and sat down on the couch England slept on.

"Oh I'm just here…doing nothing…and trying to wake you up…" France said in a sarcastic, yet playful tone, to which England ignored, till the other blonde spoke his last statement, as fast as he could. England caught up anyways.

"WHAT?! 15 MINUTES LATE?!" England shrieked.

"I've been telling you that since the moment I got here. You kept on sleeping no matter _what _I do." France whined, and complained on further how he wasted his beautiful energy just to wake him up. The former Empire rolled his eyes and grabbed his folders, and dragged the wavy haired man out of his bedroom, and out of his house; heading towards the place the World Meeting is being held.

England of course, being the prim and proper gentleman that he is, he didn't like to be late; especially on World Meetings. France knew that. So when France arrived, a little later than what's England's usual time of arrival is, he began to look for him. Seeing whenever he's late, he's in a bad mood. England has to thank him _once_ in a while.

* * *

"Ah! There you are…"

Germany welcomed them, and as they took their seats, Germany continued on with the meeting.

It was really odd. Really it was.

For England that is.

He had never felt so tired, so dizzy, so lazy, and so sleepy, before. It was like something had hit him and the effect took a toll on his body very quickly. His eyes started to get foggy. And in less than a second, he fell into slumber.

Dreaming…

Dreaming about…

His precious one…

'_England! Come back!'_

'_I'm sorry…'_

'_I don't want to be alone!' Cries of a small child turned into a shriek as more tears came falling down to his face, wailing out a little more, for his elder brother to hear. But, England…America's big brother…only looked at him with those apologetic eyes, muttering…_

'_I'm sorry America…'_

_The little colonized America continued to cry out in sadness._

'_I'll come back for you…'_

It was the last thing he heard himself say to the young colony, before his eyes fluttered open; upon hearing his name. His eyes shot up even wider, and panicked; causing him to stand up unnecessarily. His velvet chair moved swiftly as he did. Everyone's attention turned to him, and their concern shot up to its peak.

England's face was sweating, his eyes, narrowing in what they know is fear, his hand shaking. His hand showed that he's in the urge of wanting to grab something, or someone, and just hold it tightly. Not wanting to let it go, or let anyone have his possession. And what's worse, he was hyperventilating, which was very rare. Everyone knew how stiff England is, and no one, or _nothing_ could make him look and act like this. Like he was out of zone. Of course, everyone in the room knows why he was acting like this _again._ But they never spoke up. Afraid of breaking the hyperventilating blonde even further.

"I-I…Excuse me!" he stammered, and composed himself again, before power walking out of the conference room.

France sighed. _That again?_ He thought, and ran his gloved hands in his wavy locks, sighing once again in desperation. England needs to calm himself before he does anything stupid again.

_No…Not this feeling again…_he cursed inside his head. No more bad dreams. No more regrets. No more helpless England. No more. Not when he finally moved on. He couldn't risk losing his sanity again.

Would he?

Just to be with his only one?

"England…"

"MOTHER OF-!" England clamped his mouth shut, turning to the person who just clapped his shoulder, surprisingly sneaking up on him, without getting noticed.

America just stood there, looking concerned at England. His former custodian looked like he just saw a dead body lying around, aimlessly on the hallway's carpeted floor. Without any further a due, the smaller blonde hit the taller one's arm (as hard as he could of course) and shouted at him.

"Don't sneak up on me like that! You git!"

America jumped a little, sweating and looking away from the miffed Brit. England decided to walk away seeing the taller blonde was a little scared of talking to him right now, in his crossed mood. But, America grabbed England's wrist and just shook him.

"You alright?" he asked, concern in his voice. England became dizzy from all the shaking and pushed America away from him.

"I don't want you bothering with me!" he said, unfortunately, his voice rose a little, making him seem like he's mad at the other. America stood there. His face wasn't showing anything, but he felt hurt. He always teased England and is concerned for him, the Brit would even fidget at the gesture. But today…he's off. America let his hands slip to his side and just turn away. But, he dragged England towards the cafeteria, making him sit down. He was pissed off, he could tell, but America grabbed them some food anyway. Setting down the tray and taking a seat, he grabbed his burger, biting on it, while England just ignored his. _I pissed him off too much huh?_ America thought, sighing.

Suddenly, England spoke up.

"America?"

"Hm?"

"Do you still…" England asked, only to stop midway. America raised a brow, taking all of his attention to the Brit. England opened his mouth to speak up again, only to find no sound came out. He muttered a 'Tch' and turned away.

England was just shocked to suddenly hear the American laugh in joy…with no reason whatsoever. It kind of creeped him out, but, he's into dark magic and all that jazz, so…why is this any different? "What are you laughing at?" he spat, though he never meant to do it intentionally. It just came out. But the bespectacled blonde didn't looked harmed or insulted. He just kept on laughing. England found it…nostalgic for some reason.

"You're so cute England~!" America said, waving his hands like a girl he is, and dispersing a flowery aura. England jumped at the adjective.

_Me? Cute? What the bloody hell is up with him?!_ He cursed in his head, and looked away even more. He didn't want to meddle with him and his little game. He's in a very bad mood. And everyone knows to leave him be when he's in a bad mood. But America knows more than that.

Looking back at the American, he was surprised to see him up close. Like, suuuper close. Like, he's about to kiss him and whatnot. _Don't think about stupid things!_ He mentally slapped himself and just kept his composure straight. "Move aside Alfred…" he ordered. England got annoyed quickly. America flinched a little when England called him by his human name. Meaning, he's really pissed off, but, wouldn't budge at all. England pushed him away from him, still the younger of them both wouldn't move.

"England-san, America-san, you two should come ba-…."

"J-Japan?!" England muttered in shock.

_I can't feel my legs…_ America thought, trying to scuffle his laughter. England's face was too funny. He was panicking.

"Please…" Japan started and took out a camera out of nowhere, "…do continue!" he said as his eyes sparkled and started to blush and fanboy.

"Hahahahaha! Here I go!" America screamed and glomped England, tried to smooch him off his feet. Of course, the panicked Brit ran for his life, while Japan snapped a few pictures here and there.

He was glistening in delight with his new collection.

"JAPAN! BURN THOSE IMMEDIATELY!" England shouted while America held him off. As they walk back towards the meeting room, all the things that America and Japan can hear is England cursing his head off. Cursing the blonde git.

* * *

"Well, I'm glad that this meeting is a productive one." Germany concluded, as he fixed his files in his folder. Italy was running around the room and suddenly declared, "Now we can have pasta~!" he said in his cheery voice.

"NOT YET ITALY!" Germany told him.

Italy then clung to Germany, begging him to take them out to eat pasta. The buffed German sighed and told the whining brunette to wait. America, due to his stomach, asked everyone out loud, "Hey! Anyone out for a bite at Micky D's?!"

There were a lot of 'yes' ringing at the room and America led the way. Italy was rather happy that he finally gets to eat; even if it isn't pasta. France just countered their excitement by saying, "My country's food is better~!" _IN_ a singing tone.

Their voices of excitement and laughter echoed throughout the whole building, till it was heard no more by a certain country that was left in the meeting room.

Looking out to the window, he sighed and drank his cup of tea, that was quite getting cold. His magical friends, Flying Mint Bunny, and a pixie came up to him, asking if he was okay. England nodded.

Only to his friends' surprise, he choked on his sobs that he was holding off the whole day. Ever since that morning, he feels like he's being haunted by his dreams that he wished to forget. The dreams that made him weak for a century. He didn't want to feel weak and helpless ever again. England faced his friends and just said, "I'm fine. Everything's going to be fine…"

"I know it will…"

* * *

**A/N: **JDKLASDJLAKSFRAOJA I'M SORRY IF THIS SUCKS! THIS IS MY FIRST USUK FICTION THAT IS NOT A ONE-SHOT…I USUALLY DO ONE-SHOTS SINCE I CAN'T DO A CHAPTER-Y STORY SINCE I ABANDON THEM MOST OF THE TIME WHEN I DON'T LIKE WHERE ITS GOING…SO…PRAY THIS WOULD END PERFECTLY AND WHATNOT! XD

ENJOY AND REVIEW~!

P.S.

I'M JUST GONNA POINT OUT THAT ENGLAND ADDRESSES AMERICA IN HIS HUMAN NAME, "ALFRED", WHENEVER HIS TOLERANCE REACHES IT'S PEAK. IT'S CUTE THOUGH.../shotdead


	2. Chapter 2

"Ah~!" America sighed in satisfaction. "Only three more days left till my birthday~!" he cheered and stood up to carry a box filled with invitations he'll send to his fellow countries. His best friend, Tony, an alien, was busy playing America's video games, and the whole room was filled by nothing but, buttons being pressed with passion. America sat down on the carpeted floor, and placed the box in front of him; opening it up.

His blue eyes were fixed at the sealed papers inside those envelops decorated in his country's flag color. His attention paused at the one envelope that was above the others. Picking it up, he scanned the name, and he felt his eyes sadden. He didn't know why…

…it just did.

"Arthur Kirkland." He read. Still staring at the name written on the envelope, he didn't hear the ringing of his bell, that kept on going and going like the person that wants to see him needs to use his bathroom. America muttered something about people being impatient, but he just laughed because he was impatient as well anyhow. America opened the door, only to see France, smiling slyly at his door. He even winked at the boy.

_Eew…_America thought and he suddenly felt something was crawling down his spine that he was jiggling up his whole body till France slapped him wake. "T-Thanks…" the blonde mumbled. France laughed and only replied, "You're welcome mon cher…"

America chuckled awkwardly, if that was ever possible, and looked at his visitor. "Er…what are you doing here France? Need anything?"

"Would I be here if I didn't need anything?" he answered sarcastically. America laughed sarcastically as well, and just glared annoyingly at him, as he opened the door and let the Frenchman in. "Right. Good point." He said, and closed the door. Following France into his own living room, he told the other to sit while he go get them some Coke. Upon returning, America had opened his can of Coke and was drinking it down.

France gladly took the beverage, and as America was about to finish his last drop of Coke, while sitting down, France shot him a question. "Where's England?"

America froze. The arm that was up and holding the can near his mouth was slowly lowering. His hand was placed now on top of his lap while America gazed down at the floor. France didn't get why he turned up quiet. He asked such a common question when inquiring for someone's presence. Maybe it's because of him and England having a fight again? He could take that guess.

France was startled when he heard the young blonde chuckle and confessed something he was shocked about.

"SACRE BLEAU! FOR A WHOLE TWO MONTHS?!" France shrieked.

America rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, while chuckling his way out of his fault. Yet again. He and his former custodian haven't talked in a while, and as he said, for a whole and straight, two months. France would have none of it. Grabbing the young country by his shoulders, he turned him around so that his back was facing the Frenchman. "Go call him!" he commanded.

"W-What?! No way!" America shouted, a little too loud for his liking.

"Don't scream at me when I'm only just two inches from _you_! NOW. CALL. HIM!" France demanded again, putting emphasis on each word he spoke. America kept on protesting that he doesn't want to. But in his insides, he wanted to know if the Brit was alright. He always bugged him at least five times a month, with him going to his house, or vice versa. Now, they seem to be keeping distance off each other. He doesn't know why though. He wanted to know. But it was a little embarrassing with France in his house. _Demanding _to call England. It was pressuring him. In the end, he gave in the France's urging.

Flesh-colored hands trembled as it hovered above the number buttons settled on the telephone. Was he nervous? He couldn't be. Heroes don't get nervous at all. Might be because he's afraid of getting an earful, and England's ranting was worse than his burnt scones. Or, could be both.

At long last, he dialed the Brit's number. A couple of rings passed and soon enough, America put the phone back on its original place. The young blonde faced the Frenchman and just shook his head. "He's not answering…"

"As I thought…" he sighed desperately. America was a little silent for the moment, and he trotted towards his coat hanger and grabbed his bomber jacket, leaving France running after him; confused. "Mon cher! Where are you going?!" he shouted.

"I'm going to visit him!" he answered and ran as fast as he can.

"Alright then…I'll visit Canada~!" he cheered.

"Okay!"

* * *

_DING DONG!_

"England?" America called out, cupping his mouth to let the Brit hear him. No answer though. A few minutes passed and the door didn't open for him like he expected it to be. He cursed his nervous system for making him feel paranoid like a crazy person he is. His final decision was to open the door and go inside, and go find England _himself. _

"England?" he called out again, in the dark. _It's so dark…_he thought as he shivered. Stepping inside more, the door locked itself behind him that made him run around the house in complete shock, bumping everything in his way, and cursing along with it. Running and bumping and cursing his way up the stairs, he finally sighed in relief as he reached England's room. America breathed in and out for a moment before scanning the dark room. Lights were out, but he knew England never turns his lights off except when he hits the sack; which is very late in the morning. The bespectacled blonde walked carefully around the room, afraid of bumping England's belongings even further, and getting another round of earful once he finds out about his doings.

The only light in the room was the sun creeping into the drawn curtains that seemed to be unusually drawn out. England doesn't draw his curtains…not unless he needs some calming to do. Walking farther up the room, America accidentally stepped on something that made a cracking sound. "Huh?" he looked down, only to see a silhouette of the item. He picked it up and saw a handle of a tea cup, and just the handle. Probably broken. And, a red ribbon he's familiar with, tied to it. Not knowing what it's pointing out, he raised up his face, only to feel his senses darken.

England was lying down on his stomach, at the cold wooden floor; not moving nor breathing. America quickly ran to him and shook him wake. He didn't get any response from the smaller blonde, but he's glad he can still hear his heart beating.

America choked on his tears, trying to fight them flowing down his cheeks. But in the end, they did.

"THIS IS MY FAULT!" He screamed and hugged the unconscious body tightly. He cried like that for a while, with England still unresponsive.

* * *

_It hurts..._

_America..._

_Where are you?_

* * *

**A/N: **I'M SO SORRY THIS IS SHORT! I CAN'T DO LONG CHAPTERS EVEN IF I WANTED TO! I cut them up when I feel the need to because...I dunno...emphasis?

/apologizes a bunch/

Enjoy my super short chappie! QAQ


End file.
